I want the next two weeks to hurry by. And yet I hate myself for rushing my life like that. Time has become an odd creature around these parts; half wishing it were here to stay, half watching over my shoulder for someone to steal it away.
I want to feel pure, unfiltered joy again. Joy without a lurking shadow. Joy in just sheer existence of it. Joy for simply being. Joy for joy’s sake instead of joy ‘in the circumstances’. I’m tired of the circumstances. Circumstances that no one invited. Circumstances, be damned.
I want to not have “cancer survivor” built into my story. I don’t want to be one of those people that folks say- “Oh, you know Elizabeth. She’s a nice girl. Did you hear she had cancer?”
I want to be surrounded by people that really, truly care about me. Now that no one is watching- I want people around that simply love me for me.
I want to scream at the top of my lungs, allow myself to fall apart. But every time I feel the tears crest the rim of my eyes, threatening to cascade down my cheeks, I force myself to stop. Perhaps it’s because of timing. Perhaps it’s because I’m scared that if they start- they won’t ever stop.
I want to be fixed. Whole again. But the past few days I can’t help but feel annoyed. I’m not mad- far from it in fact. I’m just annoyed with people that complain about nothingness. If I have to put a smile on my face and make the world a happy place while my insides feel like they are in tiny shattered pieces, then so should you.
I want so many things- to no longer feel all alone, to be a strong champion like I so wish I was, to take this new challenge gracefully and with my head held high. More than anything- I just want to put this period behind me. With time comes closure and acceptance- of this I’m well aware.
I hope it arrives sooner than later.